


Sleepaway School (working title)

by zeldasayre



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Boarding School, M/M, Roommates, boarding schools are kind of my thing, like its sort of a problem, so obviously this was an inevitability
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 04:40:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5652796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeldasayre/pseuds/zeldasayre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I’d gone here for three years now, and never gotten into anything serious enough to cause me any trouble with the less tolerant guys. One pretty boy sleeping across from me was nothing I couldn’t take.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WIP
> 
> oh and yea this, like most of my fics, takes place in America. bc. that is where i am

It looked the same and smelled the same, musty and like oak and rust, and it felt the same, too, a little too cold, not quite right for a place you were meant to call home.

But it wasn’t the same, of course, because the giant Guns ’N’ Roses poster was gone, replaced with a smaller one of David Beckham, and the bed opposite mine was made with a quilt that looked home-knit. The shelves on that side of the room were stocked with actual school books rather than superhero comics, and the wardrobe was open to reveal nicely folded and ironed uniform pants, shirts, and blazers. There was even a special rack on the door for ties.

I had a new roommate.

I’d known, of course, coming back, that Ty would be gone. His family was moving out of the country, to England. I’d known, but it was still jarring, coming back to see everything the same but… different.

My things were just as I left them. I dropped my bag on my bed and opened it to unpack my clothes– mostly uniforms, newly laundered, but some floral button downs and dark skinny jeans, for weekends and late night outings past curfew. Tucked under a few blazers was a delicate framed photo of my sister and my mom, and I carefully took it out and placed it on my desk. It’d been a gift from my mom when I started to pack to come back to school. She always hated my leaving, but it couldn’t be helped. Or it could be helped. But I always told her, “Mom, this was your idea, you do remember?”

“Yes, Harry, I remember.”

When I was done unpacking, I sat down on the bed and stared out the window for a moment before standing, brushing off my pants, and heading toward the dining hall for dinner.

Liam and Niall were already at our usual table when I approached. They smiled and high-fived me as I sat down across from them.

“How was your summer?”

“Boring. You?”

“Boring.”

“We were thinking of getting some guys together after dinner for some footie. You’ll come, Harry, right?”

“Niall, America. Soccer. And yea, I’ll come. ’Course.”

“Have you met your new roommate yet?”

“Not yet. As long as he’s not a tuba player, though, I’m good.”

“Oh, man. Can you imagine?” Liam laughed. “Roommates who play instruments are the worst.”

“Watch it,” Niall grumbled. 

“Aw, no, it’s different with guitar, Nialler,” Liam assured him.

“I think Jack might say otherwise,” I laughed. Niall sent me dagger eyes.

When I went back to my room, I found a short, floppy-haired guy on Ty’s old bed, bending over to grab something from the floor. He shot up at the sound of my arrival and I gave him my best attempt at a smile that said, ‘Hello, I promise I won’t murder you in your sleep or play tuba, please do the same for me.’

He just blinked back.

“Hey, Beckham,” I said. I held a hand out to him. “I’m Harry.”

He seemed confused, so I indicated the poster behind him with my eyes. “Oh, right,” he said. “Uh, hi. Louis.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said, shaking his hand briefly before turning away. I pulled off my jeans in favor of gym shorts and then, as I peeled off my shirt, turned to say to Louis, “I and some friends of mine were just gonna go kick a soccer ball around on the front field. You care to join us?”

He stared at me for a moment before dropping his gaze, clearing his throat, and saying, “Yea, sure, um, yea, that sounds great.”

“Cool.” I pulled my hair up into a bun and pulled on a thin sleeveless tee. Louis was already dressed in the typical straight boy uniform of shorts and a t-shirt, so I motioned towards the door. “Shall we?” 

He nodded.

The air outside was still sick with summer, though cooling with the evening and the approaching autumn. It felt good after the chilly breezes of the stone dorms, and I bumped shoulders with Niall when I spotted him by the tree line. 

“Niall,” I said. “This is Louis, my new Ty.”

“Pleasure, Louis,” Niall beamed, holding out a hand for him to shake. Louis smiled and accepted it. 

“Pleasure’s all mine,” he said.

“Charming, isn’t he?” I said, like we were old friends. He grinned at me, surprised. 

“Astoundingly so,” Niall agreed.

“Liam!” I shouted, seeing him coming out of his building. I waved him over.

“Hey,” he said, already sweaty like he’d been working out since dinner’d ended. Which wasn’t unlikely.

“This is Louis,” I said.

“Hello, Louis.”

“Hello, person.”

“Liam,” I aided.

“Liam,” Louis repeated. 

Liam grinned. He didn’t offer a hand. “Should we get started?” he asked.

“Who’s got the ball?” Niall asked.

“I have!” Andy, a sophomore, said, jogging up to us.

“You ready then, Beckham?” I asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” He smiled wide at me, the setting sun catching in his eyes and making them like morning glories.

Niall grabbed the ball out of Andy’s hands and, with a holler, kicked it across the field.

We all took off running like a gun’d been shot.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ugh, pretty boys

I woke up early, and, as always happens on the first day back after break, was immediately disoriented. It happened at home, too, when I’d been here for a few months. I turned over to search the dark for Ty’s sleeping figure, always on top of the duvet despite the cold. Instead, I found just a head, tucked into a pillow, the tiny body of my new roommate easily disguised under his quilt. I watched him as my eyes adjusted, his barely-open mouth, his messy hair and his eyelashes, long enough that I could make them out across the small span between us, fluttering slightly as he sighed in his sleep.

I smiled at the sight. He was beautiful, the classic kind, like a James Dean or a Marlon Brando.

Probably didn’t swing the same way those two did, though.

I sighed, myself, and turned onto my back, dragging my eyes away from him. Being bisexual was a hard thing to ignore at an all-boys school, and I’d been here about three weeks, freshman year, before I realized it. But I also understood the careful balance schools like this had with queer guys. Not quite don’t ask, don’t tell, but along those lines. Kind of like, you can like guys, that’s fine, even fair, given your circumstances. Just don’t act on it where anyone can see.

All my crushes had been older, unachievable guys, anyway, so it’d never been a problem for me. And Ty was about as appealing as one of those hairless cats.

I could tell already that rooming with Louis would make things here slightly more difficult for me. Even if he had the personality of the peach colored pencil you always used to color in white people’s skin in kindergarten, he had the kind of face you only realized you weren’t supposed to be staring at after minutes had passed, and a body that’s every movement made your tongue feel slightly too large for your mouth, even as petite as he was.

It didn’t matter. I’d gone here for three years now, and never gotten into anything serious enough to cause me any trouble with the less tolerant guys. One pretty boy sleeping across from me was nothing I couldn’t take.

I tried to sleep for a while longer before jumping up, dragging on the gym shorts I’d discarded on the end of my bed last night, and heading out for a jog.

When I got back, Louis was gone, presumably already down at the dining hall for breakfast. I showered hurriedly, then put on that fateful blazer and those never-tight-enough-for-my-taste pants, and, as I knotted my tie, sighed at my reflection, my hair dripping onto my white button-down, darkening it against my chest so my sparrows started to show through. This is what I would look like every day now for the next three and a half months.

I grabbed my bag and locked the door behind me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~the jingle they play before louis C.K. comes on stage~

“Morning, Beckham,” Harry said, sliding in across from me and beside his blonde Irish friend who’s name escaped me.

“Morning,” I repeated.

It was even worse than yesterday. This morning, his hair was wet, dampening his shirt so it became transparent and revealed tattoos on his chest. His lips were red, flushed and swollen, probably from just brushing his teeth, and the morning sun was streaming in theatrically through the dining hall’s high windows, catching his green eyes and setting them off like the glittery fireworks that take a long time to fade out.

I stared down at my food and tried to think about anything but the overwhelming attraction I had for my new roommate.

He talked slow and deep to Liam about our upcoming classes. I held my tea between my hands and took long sips.

“Louis,” the Irish one said, “have you been to the lake yet?”

“He got here yesterday, Niall,” Harry said. Niall, right. That was his name. “How would he have been to the lake yet?”

“We’ve gotta sneak out tonight then,” Niall said.

“You don’t waste any time, do you?” Liam laughed.

“Lake?” I asked.

“There’s a beautiful lake in the woods just less than a mile from here,” Harry explained. “It’s perfectly _within_ the rules to go there during the day, but Ni here likes to be _without_ the rules, so we sneak out at night, sometimes.”

“It’s better at night,” Niall said.

“Everything’s better at night,” Harry grinned, rolling his eyes.

I tried not to think about how calling a lake ‘beautiful’ might not be something a straight guy would be particularly inclined to say, because, for one thing, that was completely ridiculous, for another, it was fairly offensive, stereotyping and childish, and, also, because it was completely pathetic, on my part. Yea, Harry had long hair and some floral button downs in his closet alongside his blazers, but that was just as likely to mean he was a stoner, a hipster, or a classic hippie as it was that he was into guys. If there was one thing I should definitely _not_ do with regards to my new roommate, it was get my hopes up.

“That sounds great,” I said, smiling wide to prove my enthusiasm.

“You see!” Niall said. I laughed.

“Maybe we could just leave the Irish one at home, though?” I whispered, leaning slightly across the table toward Harry. He grinned, his eyes bright, and Niall sputtered out a protest as Liam chortled.

“Been here about five minutes and he already sees what a moron you are, Nialler.”

“Louis,” Niall said, shaking his head at me. “I thought we had something special, I really did.”

“I’ll still sleep with you, if that’s what you’re getting at,” I grinned.

Now Harry burst out laughing, and Niall turned the color of an overripe-strawberry beside me as Liam gaped.

I took another sip of my tea.


End file.
